


Beauty From Ashes

by LawofJo



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Childbirth, Death in Childbirth, F/M, Family, Mute Link (Legend of Zelda), Repressed Memories, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 07:56:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19884232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LawofJo/pseuds/LawofJo
Summary: On the day Link's new life is beginning to take shape, and his family begins to grow, is the day one of his most grievous memories resurfaces to torment him.(A sort-of sequel to Wild's Best Friend but can be read separately)





	Beauty From Ashes

Epona’s whinny pierced the early evening as she galloped along the rolling green fields of Hyrule, sprinting as fast as she could to appease her rider who whipped her reins forcefully in the wind. Normally Link never wanted to push his steed, who had become like family over the past four years since he found her in the wilderness upon his reawakening. But this was the only way he was going to make it before it was too late.

_ C’mon, girl,  _ he willed her almost telepathically.  _ Almost there.  _ The thatched deep brown roofs of Kakariko Village sped into view, cantering her under the archway and onto the narrow path before Link yanked back on the reins. Epona let out a loud disgruntled neigh as her hooves skittered to a halt in the dirt. Dismounting her just outside of the porch leading to Impa and Paya’s abode, he gently took her muzzle and shushed her until she calmed, whispering an apology and promising he would make it up to her.

“Link!” Impa started in surprise when the young knight burst into her front hall, panting and sweating as if  _ he  _ had been the one who ran all that distance. His face appeared calm, but his eyes darted here and there in a reserved sort of panic. Shade, his faithful domestic wolf, jumped up from the corner and barked eagerly at his arrival, to which Link only halfheartedly patted his head.

_ “Where is she?”  _ he signed with tremors in his fingers.

“Paya has her upstairs,” the elderly woman nodded. “Don’t worry, you made it in time.” She walked towards him, placing both of her aged wrinkled hands atop his smooth yet scarred ones. “Smile, Link. This is a joyous occasion.”

He exhaled in a trembling breath before the corners of his mouth angled upward. He would feel much better when it was all over, and he didn’t have to hear the desperate labored breathing of his wife coming from up the wooden stairs. Silently ordering Shade to sit and stay put, Link removed his weapons from his back and dropped them to the floor before ascending the staircase. All of the lanterns in Paya’s room were brightly lit so she was able to see what she was doing. By the time Link entered, she was placing a cool cloth over Zelda’s perspiring forehead for the fourth time. It wasn’t the most ideal place for his pregnant wife to give birth, given the very few resources available. But with the castle currently being restored to its inhabitable state, and Zelda yet to be officially crowned Queen of Hyrule, they had a very limited amount of places to go.

“Master Link,” Paya called, loud enough for Zelda to hear over her gasps for air.

“L-Link?” The princess raised her head from the sweat-soaked pillows, her strained voice laced with immense relief. He was at her side in a flash, sinking to his knees and taking her slippery hand in both of his. Zelda turned her head to the side to look at him, wanting to drink in his face minutes before he was about to become a father. He wore a soft smile and blue eyes wild with alarm, most likely at how gaunt she appeared, wanting so much to take away her laborious pains. “This is it. It’s really happening.”

Link squeezed her hand tightly, kissing it and pressing it to his forehead. He loved her beyond words, beyond time itself, this strong incredible woman who had held back the Calamity for a hundred years now pushing herself through another arduous endeavor. Not as a future queen now, but as a future mother. He couldn’t have missed this for the world.

With a loud cry, Zelda’s back arched against the mattress and Paya frantically squatted at the foot of the bed and urged her to push. With each strain, Link watched his love’s face become whiter and whiter until she nearly matched the color of the sheets, gagging when he looked around her propped legs and saw how much blood she was losing.

“One more, Your Highness — just one more!” Paya cried in a hybrid of hysteria and excitement, her hands clutching at a bloodied mass between Zelda’s legs. A shrill scream tore through Zelda’s throat and all the bones in Link’s hand cracked as she launched her head and torso forward. At long last, they all heard it. The cries of a newborn infant taking its first breaths in the wide open world.

“Has it happened?!” Impa called up the stairs, unable to climb them in her advanced age.

“Yes! It’s a boy! A prince, Grandmother!” Paya shouted happily, tears of joy rolling down her cheeks as she went downstairs to clean the wailing baby in the basin.

“A son,” Zelda breathed, her voice suddenly very weak as she collapsed limply against the pillows. “We have a  _ son,  _ Link.” His face descended upon hers, fierce lips capturing her own, fingers combing back her blonde locks slicked with sweat, fawning over this goddess he was blessed to call his.

_ “Our son,”  _ Link whispered close to her face, watching her eyes begin to droop from exhaustion. He couldn’t believe the child was really here after so many months dreaming of him, wondering what he would be like, if he would be more taken with his mother or father, and all the other worries of new parentage that not even the princess and hero of Hyrule were safe from. Things were difficult for them, even after their victory against Ganon, but at least their son would not grow up in a Hyrule torn by war and destruction. At least Link would not leave on a quest for his beloved with the lingering possibility that he might never return. No, he was staying right here so this child could grow up nurtured by both of his parents. A luxury that neither Link nor Zelda had.

“Where is he?” Zelda asked, her arms reaching outward and grabbing empty air. “Where’s my baby?” She was pale, a little too pale for Link’s liking, her voice as soft as the breeze wafting just outside the loft window. He signed, asking if she was alright, and Zelda took his hand and kissed his fingers. “I’m alright, love. Just very tired.”

Something strong and cold as ice clamped its vice-like grip around Link’s chest. A horrific wave of dread had suddenly washed over him and he had no idea why. Was it a sign? Was this some divine intervention telling him that Zelda was  _ not _ alright? He would have to ask Impa, but not before he saw his son for the first time. Footsteps sounded on the stairs and Paya came back into view, carrying a bundle swaddled in cream linens that wiggled and whined.

“Sorry it took me so long to clean him up,” she panted. “And then Grandmother gave him a blessing for a long prosperous life.” She held out the baby boy for Zelda, who hungrily pulled him close like he was the missing part of her soul. “He’s very strong and healthy.”

“He’s perfect,” Zelda whispered, cradling the little one and admiring his features. Now that the tufts of his hair were dry, she could see their golden shine, his fingers long like her own as they curled into fists. He settled into silence in his mother’s arms, scrunched eyes opening wide to reveal beautiful blue irises like his father’s, as well as his angled chin and turned up nose. “Link, he looks so much like you.” She bent down and kissed the little forehead. “Hello… I’m your mother, darling.”

Link wasn’t listening. He wanted to partake in the joy of his son’s birth, but the icy grip in his chest only grew colder and sharper. With his gaze fixated on Zelda holding their newborn, her eyes only on him, Link’s vision beginning to blur and narrow. He knew this feeling. It had happened several times right after he awakened, and occasionally still a few years later. 

The sight of his wife with the radiance of a new mother had drawn forth a long forgotten memory… 

* * *

_ “It’s a girl!” _

_ “A girl! Our own little princess!” Aiden, an esteemed knight in the Hyrulean royal guard, whooped with joy at his wife’s bedside as the two Sheikah healers attended to the wailing child. The mother exhaled happily, falling back against the pillows with long sweat-soaked hair, hardly responsive to her husband’s euphoria. _

_ “She’s very healthy,” remarked the female Sheikah, running her hand gently over the baby’s head to wash her hair. “What will you name her?” _

_ “We decided on Aryll, after Catrina’s late mother Ariel.” Aiden rushed to the doorway and poked his head into the living room, where his young son was reading a picture book on the rug. “Link! You can come in now and meet your new sister.” _

_ “Then can I go play with Mipha?” the boy asked silently with his small hands. _

_ “We’ll go to Zora’s Domain tomorrow. Today is about your mother and the baby.” He lifted Link up from the floor and carried him into the master bedroom, where the male healer was checking his wife’s temperature. _

_ “She still has a fever,” he murmured concernedly to his associate. “We should stay the night and keep an eye on her.” _

_ Link whined a bit and reached for his mother, whose eyes fluttered open at the sound from her mute son’s throat. “Come here, my little soldier.” Aiden set him down on the bed and Link scrambled up to snuggle against her chest. “Aren’t you excited to be a big brother?” The female healer gently placed baby Aryll into the mother’s arms, and Link squirmed around to look at her. She was small, red and wrinkly, emitting the steady wailing cries all newborns did, and the five-year-old scrunched his nose up at the sound. _

_ “She’ll grow on you,” Aiden chuckled warmly, ruffling Link’s hair before his wife exhaled a rattling sickly breath. “Catrina? What’s wrong?” _

_ Link sat up and saw his mother’s very pallid face, signing the same question as his father, and Catrina took her son’s fingers and kissed them before finding Aiden’s worried gaze. “I’m fine, love. Just very tired.”  _

_ “You’re sure?”  _

_ Catrina didn’t answer, but turned her attention back to her new daughter. “Oh Aiden, she’s got your eyes. So clear and grey…” Her breathing was no longer deep, but short and shallowing out. Link could feel his mother’s heart weakening beneath his hands resting on her chest. At such a tender young age, he didn’t understand a lot of things, but a gut instinct deep inside told him that something was not right.  _

_ Aiden must have felt the same way, for he scooped Aryll out of Catrina’s arms and carried her over to the waiting crib. “Sibol, her face is completely white,” he said firmly to the male Sheikah. “I insist you do an examination as soon as possible.” _

_ Link laid himself over his mother’s chest and wrapped his strong little arms around her, not knowing what else to do now that even his father sounded afraid. He remembered the lost rabbit he had wanted to keep, hanging onto it even after his parents told him he couldn’t, as if doing so would somehow prevent him from ever having to let go. Catrina gasped slightly at her son’s grip, then gently cradled him like a mother bird during the first cool days of spring. _

_ “I don’t need you to tell me in your special language. I can feel your heart… it’s racing.” Her fingers weaved through the wheat blond locks atop his head, smoothing them when Link buried his face in her shoulder. His eyes were getting wet, and he did not like letting people see him when he wasn’t brave. But his mother’s embrace was always the one place where he could hide when life’s pain and uncertainties became too much for him. _

_ “My sweet beautiful boy,” Catrina cooed softly as if in a trance, her skin still coated in a sheen of sweat. “Don’t worry, Mama just needs to sleep. We will play when I wake up. You, me and your sister Aryll. Won’t that be fun, darling?” _

_ “Link, come,” Aiden ordered, making to slide his arm around Link and hoist him up, but the boy hung on tightly, protesting in grunts and shaking his head. _

_ “He’s hugging me goodnight, Aiden. Let him stay here until morning.” _

_ “You’re hallucinating,” Aiden muttered under his breath, then took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead, cheeks and lips. “The healers will check on you. You’ll be fine.” _

_ “Of course,” Catrina whispered. She lifted Link’s head and cupped his flushed face so his blue eyes met her own. “Take care of your sister. Protect the people you love. Remember that, Link.” She kissed his forehead and gave him one last hug, willing herself not to cry. “I’ll see you in the morning.” _

_ That night, Link waved to his mother from the doorway as she closed her eyes. The next morning, she never opened them again. His father emerged from the bedroom, the two healers whispering gravely behind him, but he refused to let Link into the room. Picking up the boy, who writhed in an attempt to free himself, he sat with him in his lap and held him closely, not saying a single word. _

_ Staring over his father’s shoulder, Link’s eyes filled with tears and spilled down his cheeks as he watched the lady healer cover his mother’s head while Sibol closed the door, forever hiding her from view…  _

* * *

“Link?” 

“Master Link?”

As Paya watched on in apprehension, Zelda reached for her husband’s hand and was startled to find it shaking and covered in sweat. “Link?” she called a bit louder, but not so loud as to wake the baby against her breast. “Come back to me, Link.” She knew what the glazed look on his face meant, and usually she would just wait until it passed. Then Link would either want to talk about whatever he had just recalled or wouldn’t, and regardless they would go about their day afterwards.

But she was moved to reach for him when she saw something she had rarely seen before: Tears. Link’s sapphire eyes were filled to the brim, his face contorting tightly, telling Zelda without words that these were not the joyful tears of a new father. He blinked rapidly as the princess’ voice brought him back as it always had, sending the tears streaming down in thick messy tracks.

“My love… what’s haunting you?”

He wanted to tell her everything right then and there, but his muddled overwhelmed mind would not allow it. Curling further into himself, Link hid his face in the crook of his elbow to force down the bubble of sobs ready to burst in his chest.

“Has… has he—?” Paya asked timidly.

“I think so.” Zelda gave her baby boy a lingering kiss before passing him hesitantly to the girl. “Please take him down to his crib and give me a moment with Link. I thank you, Paya.” She panted heavily when Paya did as she was told, the exhaustion of labor still plaguing her body. She had only stopped bleeding a few short moments ago and needed so desperately to rest. But she couldn’t now, even if she wanted to. Link’s fingers scrambled for his hair, digging in and yanking on their roots as his entire body convulsed, rocking the mattress beneath them. She thought they had seen every side of each other, but Zelda had never seen Link break down this severely before, not once in all the time she had known and loved him.

With every ounce of her waning strength, she pushed herself up from the pillows and slid closer to him, unsure if he wanted to be touched in this state. First she laid a hand on his head, holding it steady until she knew he wasn’t going to flinch away from her like a frightened animal. Her arm wrapped around him slowly so as not to startle him, his shoulders quaking from the sudden storm in his soul. She whispered his name over and over, stroking his hands covering his face with her smooth knuckles until he finally pulled them away.

The sight nearly made Zelda crumble herself. He looked so lost, like a child waking from a deep and terrible nightmare, his eyes and cheeks blotchy red and washed in the tears he had tried so desperately to hide from her. She had spent so many long nights just like this since the Calamity had been defeated, sobbing over her countless losses in Link’s arms. It wasn’t fair that he felt he had to constantly be the hero and never have a good long cathartic cry like this. No, he deserved it even more than she did. “Do you want me to hold you?” she asked softly, and Link turned into her embrace without a moment to think it over.

Now that he was safe, he could finally let go. He remembered everything. His mother had died from an unknown infection the day after his sister was born. His father buried himself in his work at the military training grounds, dragging Link along with him. He was only a small child and had to stop going to visit his Zora friends so he could help his family. It was nothing but training and fighting and taking care of his sister until she was old enough to care for herself and the house while they were gone. His father never cried, and therefore Link had never cried, never mourned his mother’s passing until now. Clinging to his own weakened wife, he hung on just as fiercely to her as he had to his mother all those years ago. But Zelda was not sickly. He could tell by the strength in her arms securing him against her, and the steady beating of her heart against his ear.  _ Thank Hylia. _

His sobs were dry and deep, cutting through Zelda like knives the longer she listened, but they were the only clues she had as to what he saw that could have set him off like this. She was fully prepared to leave him be once he calmed, refusing to press the inquiry to be let into his fragile mind and know the contents of this memory. She understood this about her husband, blamed herself alone for the decision to deprive him of his past life, and knew she had no right to demand he reveal everything to her despite their intimacy.

What she was not prepared for was for Link to pull away from her, stare into his lap hiccuping for a few moments, and then raise his hands, lifting Zelda’s heart along with them. Slowly, ever so hesitantly, he recounted the vision he saw, and she sat quietly and watched the mesmerizing dance of his fingers. He would pause every so often to dry his cheeks, and by the end of his retelling, Zelda had tears streaming down her own face as well.

_ “Mama never cared that I couldn’t speak,”  _ Link signed,  _ “She always knew what I was feeling underneath. What made me who I am. She knew me before the Sword. Everyone else changed their opinions of me when I became the chosen one. Now they’re all gone. My mother, father and sister.”  _ He slid closer to Zelda, laying her back down against the pillows and holding her hands folded on her stomach, his damp face reflecting such raw tenderness back at her.  _ “The only other person who wanted to understand the real me was you. And I was afraid that our son’s birth would take you from me, too.” _

“I… I never knew,” Zelda began once their long silence indicated he was finished. “You never mentioned your mother, not even all those years ago. But I thank you for telling me about her now. She sounds like a very special woman.” She cupped his cheek and he in turn held her hand so he could lean into her touch. “Link, I know how you feel.” She bristled, her cheeks flaming, “I know that’s a horribly tactless thing to say, but believe me when I say I  _ truly  _ do understand how you feel.”

Her own mother had been the only one who loved her for everything she was, who saw her strengths instead of her weaknesses, and she also had been taken from her suddenly and prematurely. Zelda, too, had been left with a father who pushed her in the same way Link’s father had pushed him. Link had been a prodigy while she was a bitter late bloomer. But had it not been for their similarities, Zelda never would have found another person after her mother’s death who built her up instead of tore her down, who watched her fly and still cherished her when she fell. All this time later, she still couldn’t believe Link was that person.

_ “I know. That’s why I felt brave enough to tell you all this.”  _ Link kissed her palm and gripped it a bit tighter.  _ “Zelda, you would tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?”  _ he mouthed. Her face was still very pale and her voice weary. But her hands remained warm and firm, and he clung to those signs of life.

“Of course,” his wife whispered. “I will be alright, I promise.” She brought his head down to hers and kissed his forehead, letting him rest it on her chest. “I’m sorry, Link. I’m so sorry you had to suffer like this. But I’m here, and I’ll stay here as long as I’m able. The Goddess has given us this second chance, and I don’t plan to squander it. For us, or our baby.”

Link lifted his head, his chin resting on her middle.  _ “I miss our baby,”  _ his lips pouted.

“Me too. Go and get him, Hero.”

He kissed her soft lips before rising to descend the stairs once more. Shade sat up at his master’s arrival and wagged his tail, Link scratching his head affectionately as he headed for the bassinet beside the two Sheikah women. Paya was rocking it back and forth gently, humming a sweet tune when Link approached, Impa giving him a slight smile from her seat of fluffed red pillows.

“Better now?” she asked, and Link nodded. He probably looked terrible, he could still feel how swollen his eyes were and his nose was stuffed up. He could envision his mother clear as day now, when she had been long forgotten only a short while ago. How could he somehow feel better  _ and  _ worse at the same time? Impa didn’t ask any more questions, but her eyes shone knowingly. “You are our hero, Link. The symbol of this kingdom’s courage. But courageous does not mean calloused or hard-hearted. You must  _ feel _ and allow yourself to be weak in order to truly live.”

She reached out with her hand and gestured towards the crib. “This son of yours will worship you like the sun and moon above. As he grows, let him know that strength is not the absence of a sensitive heart.” Her eyes twinkled, “But you would have done that anyway, wouldn’t you?”

_ “You’ve been taking humor lessons from Purah I see,”  _ Link signed with a teasing grin, causing Impa to laugh out loud and make Paya jump a foot in the air.

“Grandmother! Not when I’m holding the baby! I-I’m nervous enough as it is!” She carried the child so gingerly as if he were made of glass, holding her breath until she had safely transferred him to his father’s arms. “Phew! And I just got him to sleep, too.”

Link smiled at both of them in thanks before bringing his son back up to Zelda. He couldn’t take his eyes off him and how wonderful he was. He had a son. With Zelda. They had lost both of their families, but this new one they had built together. And nothing could take that away from them.

Zelda was dozing in the bed when Link returned to her side, a bit of the color starting to return to her face much to his relief. Their son stirred and fussed, realizing he was in unfamiliar arms, and Link blew a  _ “shh” _ from his lips, stroking a tiny hand until it curled around his finger.  _ He’s got a strong grip already,  _ he chuckled to himself.

“Mmm…” Zelda moaned as the dip in the bed roused her. “Let me see him.” Link immediately shook his head without looking up, and she raised her eyebrows. “Are you disobeying a direct order from your princess?” He nodded, his heart melting from the little coo the baby emitted. At seeing how content the two men in her life were with each other, his wife had no choice but to give in. She let her fingers idly play with Link’s sleeve while he hummed the child to sleep. This was all she needed. This was the peace she had always craved. A peace that was not a distant dream in the midst of death and devastation, but playing out right before her eyes. It was almost too good to be true.

“Link, what was your mother’s name?” He extracted one hand to spell it out, and Zelda bit her lip thoughtfully. “How do you feel about… Cato?” That caused Link to snap his attention back to her. “For a name, I mean.”

_ “But you had a list of names picked out,”  _ Link insisted.

“I know, but this just feels right. We’ve honored my lost family in so many ways. It’s time to honor yours.” Her hand passed over the infant and rested on his velvety head, fingertips smoothing the wisps of golden blond. “Besides, Cato is a strong name and symbolizes intelligence.”

_ “But what if he doesn’t like books?” _

“What if he doesn’t like sword fighting?”

_ “What if he hates your teachings?” _

“What if he hates your cooking?”

_ “Now you’ve gone too far.” _

They both dissolved into laughter, Zelda clutching at her sore middle and forcing herself to breathe deeply until the tension abated. When she opened her eyes, she found Link placing their son in her lap, and her heart broke at seeing her husband’s eyes wet once more.

_ “Thank you.”  _ He wiped his eyes on the back of his hand.  _ “For naming him Cato. Thank you.” _

“The people are so busy praising you as their hero, I feel they forget you’ve suffered as much loss as the rest of us did. This will remind us. And it will show us that this rebirth of our kingdom, and our lives, is real.”

There was a scuffle from the steps as Shade pawed his way up them and over to the bed, curious about the new human scent he had picked up. Running his sniffing cold nose up the sheets, he finally let it hover over Cato’s face. 

“Shade, this is Cato,” Zelda murmured, petting the top of his head. For a moment the wolf just stared at the tiny Hylian baby. Then quicker than any of them could anticipate, he stuck out his tongue and licked the little face, causing Cato to wake up and wail his lungs out.  _ “No,  _ Shade that’s not— Link, help.”

Link was already on it, grabbing Shade by his collar and steering him towards the stairs while Zelda tried to soothe the baby. Despite their peace being interrupted, the two of them couldn’t help but find the situation humorous.

_ “So the nursery is off limits to Shade, right?”  _ Link signed.

“At least until he’s done nursing, then we’ll try again,” Zelda managed through her laughter. “Poor Shade. I hope this doesn’t make Cato afraid of him.”

Link thought of his terrible first impression of his dear little sister Aryll, screaming shrilly and hurting his ears, watching her become a sweet caring girl with a big heart and an even bigger desire to tease her big brother. Despite it all, he never once held it against her for indirectly taking their mother away. And he had a feeling his son would not be one to hold any grudges either.

_ “Don’t worry. He’ll grow on him.” _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are great but comments are better :)


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